


Stress Relief

by orphan_account



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Ants, Cock & Ball Torture, Eating Ants, Emetophilia, I'm Sorry, Incest, LOOOOOOOTS of incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Torture, Watersports, Yep you heard me right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 17:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jerry J19-Zeta-7 has been quite... pent-up lately. He had an excuse, he was almost squashed by a monster! When he did make it out alive, though, he didn't plan revenge. He just needed to de-stress. And what better way to do that than to torture your own son?





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so, so sorry. This is officially the most fucked up thing I've ever written. It's... not even ironic anymore.

The last thing Mortimus could remember before passing out was a Jerry- definitely not the Jerry in his new dimension- grinning sadistically into his eyes. He awoke in a small, tiled room the color of faded, dirty seaweed. It was obvious nothing had been cleaned or used in a while. Dust, dirt and grime coated the walls and floors. He was tied to a bedframe, but there was no mattress, just a mass of crisscrossed wires and a few poles for the headboard. His hands and feet been tied to the poles, splayed out like a starfish. His back was unsupported, and although he was strong for his age, his limbs and spine were already starting to hurt within a few minutes of consciousness. After a few minutes of thinking, he started to realize what had happened; he had been kidnapped. After all, he was a quick thinker. This seemed to be the bedroom of his original Jerry, Jerry J-19Zeta7. He had been adopted by this Jerry because he had always wanted a smart son to do something for him, or something of the sort. Mortimus knew the smart Jerry had rarely ever told anything personal to him like why he got adopted. He heard the clacking of shoes hitting tile. Suddenly, a metal door to the left opened with a loud, irritating shriek. He turned to the door and spotted a man dressed in an ironed and pressed green suit and black tie. He was wearing black jeans and leather boots, and a grey-handled switchblade was hidden in the side of his boot. Mortimus could immediately tell this was his ‘father’. He noticed the older man scanning his eyes up and down his body, and he realized he was fully naked. 

“Hello, Morty, or do you go by Mortimus now? Whatever. Your body is fantastic, are you already worrying about being fat at this age? Good boy, that’s what I’d expect from you.” Jerry hummed in approval. Mortimus reached to cover himself up, but the chains restricted his movement by a lot. Jerry walked to Mortimus’s bondage, reached down to his boot, and unflipped the switchblade in his boot, the green paint on the metal chipped and faded. He traced a small outline of a simple heart into Mortimus’s stomach. It barely scraped the skin, but it left a red mark. Jerry pushed the knife deeper into Mortimus’s skin. It was hard enough to draw blood. He began to trace the red mark of the heart with his knife. Blood faintly trickled down Mortimus’s waist as he did so. Mortimus whimpered and struggled; he might have been very good at fighting, but he had always had a very low pain tolerance. Jerry finished carving the heart, took out the knife and closed it shut, and then quickly jammed his fingers into the wound. He pulled up the skin and flesh, peeling it away with moist rips to reveal the throbbing veins and the muscles of Mortimus’s stomach. The boy let out a choked scream and sobbed. 

“Pl.. please. Wh-why are you doing this? Are you insane? I never di-iid anythi-ing to you.” he whispered, dizzy from the blood loss. 

“You never did anything, kid. I just needed to have some.. stress taken away. I haven’t been relaxed enough lately. I was almost smashed by a monster and barely managed to make it out alive.” Jerry said. There was a pause, then he resumed talking. “Anyways.. I was wondering if you wanted to meet some of my friends. There’s a lot of them, but don’t be scared.” He walked to a glass box full of sand on top of a cabinet that Mortimus hadn’t noticed before. He set out a small plastic box on top of the sand. Mortimus noticed that one side could slide open and closed. It seemed like a good device to trap bugs in. While Mortimus was thinking, Jerry had come back over. He was holding the box, and Mortimus could see ants squirming around inside the plastic. He gagged. He hated ants with a passion; they were gross, foul, and their stings hurt a lot. 

“Open wide, Morty!” his father chimed suddenly, a smile spreading across his face. Mortimus struggled, hatred and anxiety bubbling in his gut. He slid the side of the plastic open and grabbed Mortimus’s jaw, pushing it down. Mortimus struggled like hell. Jerry pushed the plastic to Mortimus’s mouth, and the tiny red bodies of the ants marched into Mortimus’s mouth. Jerry dropped the box with a loud clatter onto the floor once all the ants had crawled inside of Mortimus. He kept a firm hold on Mortimus’s jaw and pushed up against Mortimus’s muscles rejecting his force, which closed his son’s mouth. Upon realizing their siblings were being crushed by Mortimus’s teeth, the ants began to panic. They bit anywhere they could find: Mortimus’s jaw, the roof of his mouth, the inside of his cheeks.. the list could go on. A few even crawled out of his mouth and into the carving on Mortimus’s stomach. 

“Swallow.” Jerry demanded. He squeezed Mortimus’s nose like a vice and kept his grip on Mortimus’s jaw tight. He felt Mortimus chew to the best of his ability and then swallow. He retracted his hands and shook off the ants that were still on him. Mortimus took a deep breath and tried to speak, but it came out mumbled. The ants had bitten Mortimus’s tongue to the point where it hurt to even try speaking. The tortured boy let out a sob. Some of the insects were still struggling inside his throat, and he felt his stomach churn. They were crawling and squirming a lot, about to trigger his gag reflex. Jerry noticed this and grabbed a chair to sit in. This was going to be fun. 

Mortimus could finally feel the ants coming back up. He could feel stomach acid stinging his throat as it lurched upwards, and he finally vomited. It came up all over his chest and chin, and even streamed down into the stomach carving. The acidity burned the wound and he thrashed in pain. The bedframe creaked. He was in so much pain. The puke had irritated his stung and bitten tongue. He looked down at the vomit and he could see the little bodies of the chewed-up ants. Even the sight of it made him want to vomit again. Jerry leaned forward and swiped a finger through the mess of digested food and acid and stuck it in his mouth. Mortimus cringed and Jerry laughed.

“Listen. I know you’re my son and all, but hey, you’re adopted, so let me.. ask you something, I guess. It’s not really asking since I’ll do it either way, but.. do you want me to fuck you? Pound you so hard you couldn’t walk even if I let you?” Jerry palmed Mortimus’s shriveled dick. The boy tried to squirm away, but Jerry kept him in place. Mortimus tried to speak, but it came out muffled as hell, so he frantically shook his head no. Jerry kept talking.

“Maybe.. Hmm, maybe I could even call a Rick over. Maybe that one Doofus Rick, the one I saw my stupid other self hanging out with. That’d be nice for you, huh? I’d watch from this chair right here with a gun, making sure he doesn’t escape.. I’d tie your cock up nice, make sure you can’t cum from being fucked like a whore..” Jerry trailed off. He had an obvious bulge straining at his pants. Mortimus spotted it and shuddered. He did not want that in his body, especially when it was from his father. Jerry took out his phone and dialed someone. 

“Hey, Doofus Rick. It’s Jerry. The bad one.” There was a pause. “No! No no no no no! Don’t hang up, I need to tell you something important!” Another pause. If Doofus Rick was normal, it would have most likely been a sarcastic remark. “Yes, really! Listen. I’m sorry. I need you to come over right now. I’ve got something amazing in mind that I need you for.” After one last pause, he listed some address and hung up. Jerry went to the table and crouched down to the cabinet underneath the ant farm. He took out a needle and thread and walked back to Mortimus. He grabbed his son’s cock and pulled back the foreskin to see the head. He observed it for a little bit as Mortimus’s face flushed red, and then suddenly pierced the tip of the boy’s cock with the needle and thread. Mortimus screamed out in pain and felt tears well in his eyes. He let out a whimper. Jerry threaded the needle to the other side of the head of Mortimus’s cock and pulled, tightening the thread so the head closed over the urethra. It would probably be a challenge just for Mortimus to piss. He continued moving the thread from side to side until he reached the end of the head. By now, the thread had soaked up a lot of blood and Mortimus was sobbing loudly. He had yelled out every time the needle pierced his cock, and it was starting to get annoying. It had been messing up his careful work. He was snipping away the remaining thread when he heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in!” He dropped the scissors and placed a blanket over Mortimus as if he was a brand-new invention about to be revealed. Rick J-19zeta7, also called Doofus by almost everyone, walked through the door and observed the room. He wondered why any Jerry would ever invite him to a place like this. Doofus noticed the blanket and then saw Jerry. He told the Rick to watch closely, and then he pulled the fuzzy blue sheet off. Doofus was sickened by what he saw; it was disgusting. It was a poor, bloodied Morty. He had vomited on himself, and he looked stressed and anxious. He took a step forward to help him, but Jerry pulled a gun on him. Doofus slowly backed up.

“Listen closely to me, dumbass. You’re gonna follow every instruction I give you, or else,” he held the pistol to Doofus’s head, “you won’t be able to help him at all. Now, I’m going to untie Mortimus, and then, I want you to fuck his brains out. Got it, doofus?” he said. Doofus was shocked. Why would he do that to a Morty?! He couldn’t believe that a Jerry had the idea to do that to his son. It was sick and disgusting, but he had to roll with it. He didn’t want to end up like Mortimus, and he didn’t want him to get hurt anymore either. 

It was difficult getting Mortimus out of the chains, but Jerry managed to do it fairly quickly. He was screaming the entire time. His body was in a lot of pain, even though Jerry hadn’t even started really torturing him yet. Now that Mortimus was up on his feet, he realized how dizzy he was. Everything spun, and there were bright colors almost everywhere in his vision. He felt like vomiting again. He shut his eyes tight, but then felt a force push him down to his knees. He heard an unzipping sound and looked up at Jerry. His limp cock was in the boy’s face. It caused a shiver of disgust to crawl down his spine. 

Suddenly, he felt a warm stream of yellow liquid splash into his face. He spluttered, trying to keep the piss away from his mouth. Jerry let out a sigh of relief and pumped his dick a few times. It was quite a lovely sight for the man, and it was so rare to see it, too! He got hard pretty quickly, and he grabbed Mortimus’s head, pulling his mouth onto his cock. Doofus watched on in horror. How could anyone do that to their own son? Although, he could feel his pants getting tighter… He dismissed a few lewd thoughts and kept watching, unable to pull his eyes away from the scene. Jerry noticed Doofus and walked away from Mortimus. He took a step towards Doofus and slung an arm around his shoulders. Jerry smirked at him and let out a chuckle. 

“This.. is going to be fun.”


End file.
